


Hidden Desire

by CheekyTorah



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: DO NOT COPY, Do not repost, Don’t Copy, Don’t Repost, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-29 18:02:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20440184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheekyTorah/pseuds/CheekyTorah
Summary: "The urge he had, day in and day out, to push that redhair out of way of those beautiful blue eyes was so strong.  Those eyes were captivating, so much warmer than his own and they had a sparkle when the boy laughed."





	Hidden Desire

**Author's Note:**

> On HPFT:  
*3rd Place Winner of “The Riddikulus Ship Challenge” hosted by aelaia  
*May 2019 Fic Night  
*May 2019 Featured Fic
> 
> A BIG thank you to Beta Reader's Noelle Zingarella and Bunbury 
> 
> written for "The Riddikulus Ship Challenge" hosted by aelaia & The Great Collab > Team Slytherpuff! & "The Slytherin-Centric Challenge" hosted by FineFrenzy__
> 
> Graphic by down-in-flames

Thump, thump, thump. Draco felt his heartbeat quicken when he walked into the massive Great Hall adorned with Halloween-centric décor. His palms were clammy, and his fingers that gripped the notebook in his hands shook ever so slightly; something he concealed easily from his housemates as he sat down beside them. His closest mates, Crabbe and Goyle were whispering to each other about another prank they were planning for Gryffindor, their rival house. He told himself he would only glance over at the table, but knew he was lying to himself. It was a horrible lie, as Draco knew very well that it never was as simple as that.

Draco watched as he always did-- the redhead laugh along with the other students at the Gryffindor table. He had always known he’d never have that sort of relationship with the Weasley, and so over the years, he had found ways to achieve other sorts of reactions, reactions that amused and satisfied his curiosity about the boy. Everything that was felt by this particular Weasley was always plastered right across his face, and even if Draco had no ability to make him smile, or laugh happily, he could make the boy redder than ever. He could infuriate the boy, and that did nothing but heighten the obsession that Draco had over Weasley. Over the years he had found immense pleasure in getting a rise out of Ronald Weasley. It was, of course, the only acceptable emotional connection they could ever have.

Their fathers hated each other: their values and families were polar opposites. He was raised from birth to hate everything that the Weasleys were, and Draco truly had tried. From the very first day at Hogwarts, he had gone out of his way to make a divide between himself and the Weasley boy. Seeing the strong and unaffected look in Weasley’s eyes at his attempt at bullying had enticed him to try harder. That was probably when it all started; not that it really mattered when it had started anyways. The very fact that it had started at all was concerning to Draco. Back then he had convinced himself it was a silly phase, one he would get over. Yet here he was six years later still pining over one of the very few people he could never admit to feeling an attraction to, let alone these annoying feelings of his.

Sometimes it got really bad: for example when he had very dirty dreams about Weasley like he had had last night. It wasn’t like him not to get what he wanted, but for Draco not to want what he wanted was a confusing situation, so most days when he felt this strongly he’d seek the company of another more acceptable wizard. Usually, that wizard was Blaise. He was far more attractive and they were in Slytherin together. They’d sneak into their dorm room when the others were busy with lunch. The closeness helped him feel less alone, and he did enjoy snogging him.

It was a Saturday and now that breakfast was over Draco, Crabbe, Goyle, Blaise and Pansy made their way to the entrance to Hogwarts. It was the weekend of the student’s excursion to Hogsmeade and Filch waited at the doors to check off the students who were going on the trip.

“I’m sorry Potter; you’re not welcome on the school trip this time: you have detention with Professor Snape, off you go.” Professor McGonagall said.

Draco watched with an amused smirk as Potter kicked the ground in anger. Professor McGonagall watched Potter stalk away before turning to the rest of the group and ushering them towards the town. This was perfect; he could harass Weasley easier without Potter around to defend him.

Draco stalked towards Weasley with Crabbe and Goyle on his tail. Weasley was walking annoyingly close to that disgusting Mudblood, another reason his sort didn’t get on with the Malfoys. Blood Traitors: all of the Weasley’s. So enamoured with anything Muggle-- especially the Muggles themselves. When the two stopped Draco took advantage of the moment to pounce on them in a sense. As Draco neared he saw the happy expression on Weasleys face melt into a severe frown and his shoulders slump dramatically.

“Well, what do we have here? Weasley and Granger on a date? How simply adorable, but I can’t seem to figure out which actually is the charity case here! Is it the Mudblood or the idiot?” Draco mocked them while Crabbe and Goyle laughed hysterically.

“Piss off Malfoy!”

“Touchy are we, Weasley? Come now wouldn’t it be a match made in freak heaven? A Mudblood and a Blood Traitor! Sitting in a tree and all that nonsense. I suppose you’ll have more kids than you can afford and live in a rickety shack just like your parents? My father laughs about the pathetic little house you stuff your ridiculous family in.”

“Ron let’s go, Malfoy’s just being a wanker as usual.” Granger shoved at Weasley to move away from Draco and his friends.

“At least my father isn’t a murderer working for a psychotic lunatic,” Weasley said.

Weasley turned to leave when Draco sauntered over to him and grabbed his shoulder. A spark of electricity flowed through his fingers at the touch. Malfoy jumped back when Ron turned to look at him, a look of rage across his face. Weasley pulled his wand immediately, aiming it at Draco’s face daring him to touch him again.

Draco’s friends were quickly by his side, and he had his confidence back after a moment of panic. His friends' wands were pointed at Weasley so Draco grinned evilly, daring him to advance. He lowered his wand and glared at Draco. The five Snakes laughed, pushed past the two Gryffindors and walked into the Three Broomsticks.

It was a couple of hours before Draco realized he had likely had a few too many butter beers as he stumbled into the men’s bathroom. He stared at himself in the mirror for a few minutes. His baby face had slimmed over the years to reveal sharp features, high cheekbones, and an angular jaw that came to the rounded point of his chin. His icy blue eyes narrowed at his reflection as he thought about how his looks did nothing to help him with his unfortunate feelings for the Weasley boy. He scoffed at the thought of how easily others succumbed to his advances from a deep look into his eyes, but that would never work on Weasley. Not that he’d ever try anything. Not with that blood traitor.

The toilet flushed and who should come from the stall but the one who occupied most of his thoughts day and night. Draco sneered at him which made the redhead angry all over again.

“What’s your problem Malfoy? Bent out of shape because you’re not old enough to join the cult of killers?” Weasley said.

“You know nothing, Weasley.” Draco glared at him and thought of the snake and skull that had just been marked on his forearm. He hadn’t wanted to join the death eaters anymore, but he had no choice, not after his father had failed his last job. It was now Draco’s job to save their family. Voldemort had them basically imprisoned in Malfoy Manor, waiting for Draco to finish his first job.

“Oi, what's your problem?” Weasley had interrupted his thoughts. Without knowing, Draco had dropped his icy wall and had been allowing a scared and miserable look to flood his face.

“Get out of my way, freak!” Draco growled, his mask back in place as he pushed past Weasley.

Back at the table, he said, “I’m bored here, I’m headed back to Hogwarts who's coming?” Without waiting for an answer, Draco left the Three Broomsticks and headed back towards Hogwarts with four confused Snakes following him.

____________

After pushing his food around his plate at dinner and ignoring the voices of his fellow Slytherins making playful jabs at one another, Draco found solitude in the quiet of the Room of Requirement. He stared vacantly into the fire that cracked and hissed as it slowly burned the wood within the fireplace. The warmth emanating against his skin made him feel more at ease then he had all evening.

Draco gritted his teeth, annoyed that someone had the ability to get under his skin so easily. If anything it was just proof of how vulnerable he was, how weak he was, just as The Dark Lord had said. He sipped some of the scarlet wine from a large crystal glass, intricately etched with a design of vines with small thorns and leaves all in silver. The subtle taste of cherry and a more noticeable flavour of black currant flowed over his tongue as he finished the remains in the glass and poured another. 

His jealousy over Potter’s ease in befriending Weasley was overwhelming sometimes, and some days Draco wished he was born into a different family. If that were the case, he would be more able to attempt, at the very least, a friendship with Weasley. Weasley’s grin and the long hair that fell into his eyes filled Draco’s mind. The urge he had day in and day out, to push the red hair out of the way of those beautiful blue eyes was so strong. Those eyes were captivating, so much warmer than Draco’s own, and they had a sparkle when Weasley laughed.

Draco remembered when Weasley was awarded five measly points for knocking out a 12-foot troll in the first year. Such potential for greatness. Draco took a big gulp of his wine and hung his head in his hands. How pathetic he must look right this moment. If any of his housemates knew what he was thinking about they’d skin his hide. Still, his mind continued to fill with the various memories of Weasley and what had drawn him to the boy. It had started as a crush, a simple curiosity really, but had turned into something so strong, so painfully real, and so utterly wrong.

He poured himself the rest of the wine and leaned back, sighing to himself. When Weasley had tried to hit him with the “Eat Slugs” curse, he laughed along with his friends when it backfired. Inside he was aching, wishing it had either actually hit him, or that he could comfort the fool. He was so brave, always sticking up for Granger. Why couldn’t his father just not be so muggle loving? Maybe they could have had a different future. Maybe he would have been Weasley's friend instead of Potter who constantly dragged his friends around to get into trouble and always took all the credit. Saint Potter-- that kid wouldn’t be half the hero everyone thought he was if not for Weasley.

Weasley was smart and agile, he had become a Prefect last year and Keeper on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team this year. Draco did his best to remain indifferent watching Weasley up there protecting the rings from the opposing team during matches, but inside worried horribly that he might get injured. Draco shook his head trying to clear his mind of all things Weasley.

He thought about his future, the expectations of his family and the expectations of the Malfoys from society as a whole. Draco had known for many years he was demisexual, it was not something he was ashamed of really, but not exactly something he could walk around shouting to the world. That said, this infatuation with Weasley was definitely something he felt ashamed of. One day he’d marry a respectable pureblood and he’d leave all this pathetic romantic garbage behind him. He’d grow to love whatever woman his parents deemed fit for the Malfoy name. He’d court, propose to and marry her. She’d bear his children and they’d grow old together.

A flash of an elderly Weasley went through Draco’s mind and the pain hit his chest as though he couldn’t breathe. This stupidity of his had to end. He couldn’t live forever pining after such a person. His eyes began to feel misty and his cheeks burned with embarrassment and anger. He finished the glass of wine in one big gulp and threw the glass across the room. It smashed on the wall inches from the fireplace. A single tear escaped his eyes and Draco became suddenly furious. A punching bag slowly materialized a few feet from the couch and he chuckled miserably that the Room was able to gauge his emotions and know what he needed at that moment.

Draco stood, walked to the bag and struck it violently. The bag moved a few inches at the force of Draco’s punches, each hit causing a rush of emotional release as tears began to flow slowly one by one down his cheeks. After about fifteen minutes, out of breath, Draco grabbed the moving bag, steadied it and leaned his forehead against it, releasing a fit of sobs allowing himself to feel the loneliness he had felt for years. He wrapped his arms around himself to calm the wave of emotions pouring out. Slowly the tears stopped and his breathing returned to normal.

He wondered if he could create an anti-love spell. A spell that would make it so he never had to think about Weasley this way again, something that would give him freedom from this pain that threatened to eat him alive. Had there been such a spell in existence already, he’d have found it years ago. He just had to get over it. He had much more important things to worry about, like killing Dumbledore for one. He had only a month left till he would help the other Death Eaters take over Hogwarts and he'd have to kill the headmaster. He didn’t want to think of what The Dark Lord would do to his family if he didn't. He knew it wouldn’t be good; it would be a lengthy and painful torture before he killed them all.

Pushing Weasley from his mind, he walked to the cabinet in the center of the room. He opened the door and revealed a crushed maroon rose, likely a gift and warning from his aunt Bella. She might be his aunt, but her loyalties were to The Dark Lord first and foremost. He had to kill Dumbledore or she’d be the one to kill Draco and his parents. The Dark Lord had an evil sense of humour and this would amuse him greatly. It was probably why his mother had begged Snape for help. Though he had an out, Draco had to do it to save the Malfoy reputation. He was the last chance. Draco made the Rose disappear with his wand, replacing it with the empty wine bottle, and closed the smooth door of the cabinet. His face was cold and indifferent as he left the Room of Requirement, all thoughts of unrequited love behind him for good.

**Author's Note:**

> I think we all can relate to a one sided crush at least once in our lives
> 
> Please leave a comment I’ll respond to them all! :) 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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